Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hawkins, Jessica

I took a breath. If I didn’t tell Bill about David, Cooper would. “One of the bachelors from the article was in the office,” I said. “He’s the one who called the police.”

  “Jesus.”

  “He was just filling in some details for the piece,” I explained. “We could’ve probably done it over the phone, but—”

  “Thank God you didn’t and that he was there,” Bill said. “Is he with you now? Thank him for me, all right?”

  An uncomfortable knot formed in my stomach. It didn’t even occur to Bill that someone else could threaten our relationship. I’d made him feel safe in our marriage, as he’d done for me. That was not just the vows we’d taken, but also the silent contract we had—don’t rock the boat. I nodded. “I will.”

  “So Mark’s in custody, right?” he sighed. “You’re not in any danger?”

  I bit my bottom lip. Cooper had sounded confident that Mark’s threats were all bluster. “The detective said the gang the Alvarezes were part of won’t care enough to retaliate.”

  “They think Mark’s a snitch,” Bill confirmed. “They won’t bother with you.” He paused. “My flight’s tomorrow night. Should I change it and come home now?”

  If he had to ask, then no. Bill’s workload never ended these days, and while I wanted him here, his clients needed him, too. Nothing would change by tomorrow. I could make it until then to hold him and reminisce about Davena.

  My event—I’d almost forgotten. I couldn’t miss tonight’s Meet and Greet for anything, and if I dragged Bill along, he’d hate every moment.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “I have that work event later and a lot to do before it starts.”

  “I’d say skip it, but at least it’ll keep you occupied,” he said.

  “Beman will be there, so everything has to be perfect.” My promotion was riding on every detail of this feature until it published. Focusing on that was much more appealing than wallowing at home.

  “What a fucking week you’ve had, babe. I’ll get home as soon as I can.” He cleared his throat. “I should get back to work, but I’ll call Cooper first. He can be kind of a dick—did he treat you all right?”

  “He was great,” I said. “He’s been very on top of it. You don’t need to call him. I know how busy you—”

  “He’ll want to talk to me, and I should thank him anyway. Your bachelor, too. I’ll check in with you in a few hours, K?”

  Bill and Cooper were going to talk. Now. I’d suspected they would, but it didn’t stop my throat from closing. I forced myself up from the bench, absentmindedly massaging my chest. “Okay. Bye.”

  Within seconds of hanging up, David—my bachelor, as Bill had called him—was at my side. “Is he on his way?”

  I rubbed my temple. “Who?”

  He nodded at my cell. “Him.”

  How did David even know who’d called? I tucked the phone back into my purse. “No.”

  “No what? When’s he coming back?”

  “He has a lot of work and missing even a day sets him back.”

  “It’s almost the goddamn weekend.”

  “Do you take every weekend off?” I asked.

  His nostrils flared the same way they had before he’d exploded during the interview just now.

  “I didn’t think so,” I said.

  “I would, if—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. My marriage wasn’t any of his business. “What did Cooper want?” I asked, changing the subject.

  David glanced away. “To make sure you and I were telling the truth. He said if we lied about anything important to cover up an affair, our statements could be inadmissible.”

  My cheeks flushed with the word affair. “We didn’t lie,” I said. “And my husband is about to call Cooper. If he says anything—”

  “He won’t,” David said. “He’s been around a long time, and he knows how to be discreet.”

  “There’s nothing to be discreet about,” I snapped.

  Fuck. Why had I been so stupid as to spend the night with David? Why had he come to my office so late? Why hadn’t I insisted on giving separate statements and putting distance between us?

  My heart pounded so hard at the thought of Cooper saying something to make Bill suspicious, I couldn’t even look at David. I turned away and headed for the spot along the curb where David had parked.

  “Olivia—”

  “We should send Cooper a fruit basket or something for his help.”

  “He’ll definitely think we’re sleeping together if we send a joint fruit basket.”

  As I reached the passenger’s side of his Porsche, I whirled to face him. “This isn’t funny.”

  “I didn’t say it was. I’m just pointing out that a fruit basket would look suspicious.”

  “That would make him suspicious?” I shot back. “Not being together late at night? Not your reaction in there?”

  David didn’t respond as he opened the car door for me and made his way around the trunk to the driver’s side.

  I looked at him over the roof of the Porsche. “Why were you so upset?”

  “Not were, Olivia. Am. I am upset, and for a lot of reasons. For one, it pisses me off that your husband’s not—”

  “Wait,” I said, holding up my hand. “It’s fine. I don’t need to know. Let’s not drag Bill into this.”

  “This is his goddamn mess. I can’t stay silent. Why isn’t he on a flight right this minute?”

  “He offered, but I’m a big girl. He has work to do, and so do I.” I slipped into the front seat, pulled the door closed behind me, and buckled my seatbelt.

  David got behind the wheel but didn’t start the car. “I saw your face out there. You’re in pain. You’re scared—and I don’t blame you.” He gripped the steering wheel. “That fucker invaded your space. He . . .”

  I wanted to tell David that I wasn’t upset because of Mark. I fought the urge to share Davena’s death. Who she’d been to me, and how the world had dimmed in her absence.

  How my life had turned upside down overnight, and that I was realizing just how quickly things could change.

  But opening up to David wouldn’t be fair to Bill.

  “This goes deeper than someone threatening you,” David said more calmly than I expected, shifting in his seat to face me. “Tell me what’s running through your mind. Even if it feels stupid or insignificant.”

  Cars passed as we sat unmoving. I’d been strong for years, keeping the hurt inside and managing from one day to the next. Couldn’t I make it one more night before dissolving? Because that was what I wanted to do. To let someone else take over for a while.

  The silence became uncomfortable. I kept my eyes out my window. “I need to get to my office.”

  “What about after tonight’s event? Will you be okay?” David asked. “You can’t stay alone.”

  If he even considered suggesting I spend the night again, then he was delusional. I turned to him. “Both Cooper and Bill confirmed we’ll be safe.”

  “That doesn’t put me at ease.”

  “You’re in as much danger as I am,” I said. “Will you be okay?”

  He snorted. “I’ll be fine.”

  I tilted my head. “You shouldn’t be alone, either. Perhaps you should find someone to stay with you.”

  “I could find someone faster than you could snap your fingers, honeybee,” he said. “In fact, I already have a dinner date. I was going to cancel, but maybe I’ll just bring her to the party.”

  I resisted from clenching my teeth. David’s bachelorhood could make my career, but that didn’t mean I didn’t hate the thought of him with other women. The idea of someone else having his undivided attention, his big, strong hands, his strength and support . . .

  “Bring her then.” My surroundings focused sharply as I forced a smile. “An event celebrating your single life is kind of a weird first date, but I doubt she’ll even notice. She’ll be too grateful for just the opportunity to spend a few hours with you.”

  D
avid’s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as he stared forward. “I’m not the one making it seem like I’m some hotshot bachelor. You want me to be some kind of womanizer, either because it’s easier for you to handle or because it’ll sell magazines—”

  “You agreed to this.”

  “For you,” he said, turning his beautiful brown eyes on me. “To spend time with you. I’m putting my reputation on the line to spend a little time with you, and your shitty husband won’t even fly a few hours to make sure you’re not murdered in the middle of the night.”

  I blinked at him. I didn’t even know where to begin with that. “You can’t say things like that.”

  “I’ll say what I want until you find a way to shut me up. And you haven’t yet.” He searched my eyes. “You’re looking for more. You tell me to slow down while keeping your foot on the gas. If you want me to save you, Olivia, I can. I will. But you can’t put all of this on me all of the time.”

  My throat dried as my mouth hung open. “All of what?”

  “You act like there’s nothing between us, and I warned you, I’m not buying that shit anymore when we’re alone. Tell me you haven’t fantasized about leaving him for me, and I’ll walk away now. For good.”

  Two words needed to leave my mouth that instant.

  I don’t.

  I don’t fantasize about you.

  About what our life together would be.

  About what would’ve happened if I’d met you first.

  How hard could it be to say all of that, even if it was a lie? My hands shook in my lap. Nobody had spoken this way to me in . . . maybe ever. Nobody had questioned me like this, pushed me, demanded more.

  “See? You can’t deny it,” he said, sitting back. “And that’s enough reason for me to stay and try.”

  “Try what?” I rasped, the words scraping from my throat.

  Try to steal me away? I wanted him to say it as I simultaneously wished he’d keep his mouth shut.

  He looked through the windshield. “I can tell you right now what’s going to happen tonight. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go home alone. So you’d better find a goddamn place to sleep or you’re coming back to my place again.”

  “What do you want from me?” I exploded. “I’m a married woman. I can’t spend the night in another man’s apartment. I—”

  “You already did.” His eyes gleamed. “And I warned you what would happen a second time.”

  “Next time I get you willingly alone in my apartment, even the gentleman in me will step aside.”

  I ignored the ache his words inspired between my legs and cleared the grit from my throat. “You heard what Cooper said. There’s no danger. Mark’s in custody. Bill will be home tomorrow night.” I crossed my arms over my seatbelt. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I have to say, I’m sick and tired of this ‘fine’ bullshit. Does he really accept that from you?”

  I widened my eyes at David. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re always saying everything is fine, even though it’s not. It’s fine that you were attacked last night? It’s fine that you’re obviously experiencing some heavy, traumatic shit? Does anyone care enough to question whether or not you’re actually fine?”

  “Excuse me?” I asked. “What are you saying? That Bill doesn’t care?”

  “How can anyone in your presence not care about you? I’m sure he does. What I’m saying is, I don’t think that he, or your friends for that matter, know you as well as they think.”

  “And what, you do after knowing me for a minute?”

  “It didn’t take me weeks to understand you better than them,” he snapped. “And I saw everything I needed to in that moment at the theater.”

  It was the first time either of us had ever mentioned the intensity that’d passed between us, and the atmosphere thickened with tension.

  “You are impossible to read if you’re not paying attention, but I am. And I may not know the details yet, but I know you.”

  I reeled back. “Does that line seriously work for you?”

  With a grunt, he sat back, unruffled. “All right, Olivia. If that’s how you want to play it. Call me a fucking playboy again because it’s safer than the truth.”

  “What do you think the truth is?” I asked.

  “If you want a satisfactory marriage with someone who’s incapable of loving you the way you deserve, then get out of my car and let’s end this for good.” He shrugged. “I can’t help you unless you meet me at least part of the way.”

  “Satisfactory?” I cried through gritted teeth. “Bill adores me, and everyone knows it.” I faltered, completely flustered. “He’s an amazing husband who treats me—”

  “How?” David leaned in and looked me full in the face. “How does he treat you?” he demanded, his eyes boring into mine. His voice lowered into a rumble. “You have no idea what I’d do with you.”

  My legs sweat against the car’s gummy leather, and I shifted, transported back to the theater, when the red velvet seats had pricked my thighs, David’s presence clinging to me.

  He was too close.

  Too comfortable.

  And the way he looked at me and saw everything—had always seen everything, from that first glance—was too much.

  It threatened everything I’d built. Not just my marriage, but all the little stitches I’d put in place to hold myself together.

  “You want to know how it feels to belong to a man like me.” David licked his lips. “Admit it, Olivia, and I’ll make it happen. We met too late—but we can still do something about it.”

  I gaped at him. “What—what are you saying?”

  “You’re made for me, Olivia. And I’m made for you. If you run away like you’re about to, you’ll always wonder what kind of love we could’ve had.”

  “Don’t be r-ridiculous.” I had love already. And if I didn’t, it was because I didn’t want it and all the bullshit that came with it. I fumbled to escape from the seatbelt. “We’re done.”

  “I assumed as much. Here, let me,” he said coolly and slipped his hand down between my thigh and those sticky leather seats. His hand lingered against my bare skin, at the hem of my dress, and my pulse pounded. He bent closer so that I could almost touch my lips to his neck. His faint, earthy scent left me dizzy and pining for more.

  His fingertips grazed along my outer thigh as he searched for the release, and it was all I could do not to spontaneously combust from desire. My breath caught in my throat.

  Do not squirm, do not squirm. That’s exactly what he wants.

  He pushed the button and the seatbelt jumped into my shaking hands. David leaned back into his seat and stuck his chin in his hand, looking back through the driver’s side window.

  I pushed the door open and hurried back out to the sidewalk, but I couldn’t bring myself to slam the door. After taking a breath to collect myself, I said, “Maybe you were right yesterday. Maybe any type of relationship is impossible.”

  He looked over at me with an unreadable expression. “And maybe I’ll skip tonight,” he said.

  I froze. Everything I’d done the past few weeks had been for this article, and David was at the center of it. “You promised you’d be there.”

  “I did. But you’re testing my control, and I can’t make you any more promises.”

  I gaped at him. “What does that mean?”

  He locked his golden-brown irises on me. “When you find yourself alone and aching for something nobody around you can give you, when everything feels too heavy, and you want someone else to shoulder the burden—don’t you dare look to me.”

  He could shoulder it—and he would if I asked him to. That was the problem. “I won’t,” I promised.

  He cocked his head. “You say that, but you don’t mean it. If I see in your eyes all the things you’re too scared to admit one more time, then it’s on.”

  “What’s on?” I asked breathlessly.

  “I will fight for you with
zero regard for the destruction I leave behind. It will make the war over Helen of Troy look like a child’s game. That’s why I can’t come tonight,” he said, “unless you look me in the eye right now and tell me you don’t want me. And you fucking mean it.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I said and slammed the door.

  Oh, God. He’d fight for me? At just the thought, excitement pounded my heart as I stormed off—and indignation shook my body. How dare he question my marriage, give me an ultimatum, and assume he’d be the one I’d go to when I felt the most alone?

  He’d been lying to himself since the moment we’d met eyes at the theater. This was lust, nothing more. It could not conceivably or plausibly be anything more.

  “You’re made for me, Olivia. And I’m made for you . . .”

  As in soulmates?

  I nearly laughed. How many other women had fallen for that with the flash of his seductive grin?

  That was it. This was done. And, I realized, it had to happen this way. When it came to David Dylan, an explosive fight culminating in an ultimatum I couldn’t accept was the only way to finally end this.

  22

  Gretchen sat at a pink lacquer vanity table in her otherwise unremarkable bedroom. Empty white walls. Metal bedframe. A straw hamper in one corner. As she did her makeup, I tapped my foot and flipped through an old issue of US Weekly, but I didn’t register anything on the glossy pages.

  I hadn’t heard from Bill. But would I, even if Cooper had said something to make him suspicious of David? Bill and I had an understanding. We knew when to communicate and when to sweep things under the rug and move on.

  Not that there was anything to sweep anyway. Nothing had happened with David.

  All that mattered at the moment was that my event started soon. “I need to get back so I can finish setting up,” I said to Gretchen, tossing the magazine on her white paisley bedspread.

  “Nope.” Gretchen shook her head. “I’ve put on hundreds of events, Liv. There comes a point where tinkering with small details can make things worse.”

  “But if my boss arrives and everything isn’t—”

  “Everything will not be perfect. I promise you.” She arched an eyebrow at me. LED bulbs lit up Gretchen’s smooth, freshly scrubbed skin, illuminating her slight rosacea and the little red bumps that would disappear in moments with a fresh coat of foundation. “You have to let go of the things you can’t control and know you did your best. People will pick up on your stress, but if you let loose and have fun, they will, too.” Her mouth quirked into a smile. “And if anything gets fucked up, blame it on the event coordinator. That’s what they’re there for.”